


Needles

by orphan_account



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Crack, Fluff, M/M, MTMTE, Needles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 14:23:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Giftfic<br/>Tailgate is afraid of needles.<br/>Can Cyclonus help?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needles

**Author's Note:**

> Tailgate/Cyclonus fluffiness for ticklish-robots on Tumblr, who is afraid of her life of needles :P  
> Good luck with your blood tests, honey!

"Get back here!"

Tailgate raced around the corner, arms flailing as he fled the medbay. The corridors were mercifully empty, allowing him to make a quick escape.

Unfortunately, that also meant that Ratchet had an easier time chasing after him.

There was absolutely nothing Tailgate hated more than needles. It was irrational, illogical fear that had festered and grown over the years, and he couldn't manage to get over it. Even before the six million years he had been in stasis, he hadn't had to face his fear very often. Working class mechs only had to get a repair nanites booster shot once every metacycle or so, to make sure systems would be protected against common viruses and the like. Tailgate had usually had to have been held down so the medics could administer the injection.

"Tailgate, so help me, I will beat you within an inch of your life if that's what's necessary!"

Gasping, Tailgate desperately punched in the code to his hab. suite and dived inside. Cyclonus glanced up from where he was cleaning his sword and scowled at him. "What are you-"

"Help!" Tailgate dived at him and scrambled up on his berth, hiding behind the purple mech's mass.

The single-horned mech hid his surprise behind a scowl. "Stop it. What are you doing?"

"Hiding. Please don't let him hurt me."

Cyclonus tensed almost imperceptibly. "Who? Whirl?"

"Ratchet." Tailgate wailed, clutching his roommate's wings.

The tiny hands on his wings sent a little wave of pleasure through his sensornet. He had to shake his head in order to answer. "Ratchet? Why would Ratchet-"

There was a booming knock on the door, cutting him off mid-sentence. Then Ratchet's voice roared "TAILGATE! We can do this the easy way or the hard way! I know the medical overrides to your room-"

Cyclonus turned to stare at his roommate. "What is going on?" His tone made it sound as though he were talking about the weather.

"Ratchet wants to give me a shot but I don't want it I hate needles please get him away Idon'twantitmakehimstop." Tailgate babbled desperately.

After a pause, Cyclonus picked the smaller mech up and carried him to the door, ignoring his struggles and shrieks. As the door slid open to reveal Ratchet looking royally pissed, Cyclonus said "Medbay?"

"Nooooo!" Tailgate wailed, thrashing around and chipping purple paint.

Ratchet blinked, before nodding and gesturing down the hall. Cyclonus took off with long strides, causing Ratchet to have to practically jog to keep up.

Tailgate struggled and and wriggled the whole way, and his thrashing only increased as Cyclonus carried him through the medbay doors. "Nonononono! I don't want an injection! I'm fine! I don't want it, stop!"

"Calm down." Cyclonus snapped, almost throwing him onto a medical berth. "It's only a booster shot."

"Make sure he doesn't run again." Ratchet called to First Aid. The apprentice medic nodded, but it was Cyclonus who sat on the berth next to Tailgate and placed a restraining hand on the minibot's shoulder. Ratchet nodded and turned his back to ready the needle. "Listen, Tailgate. I understand you have trypanophobia, but you need to-"

"I have what?! Is that a disease? Oh Primus, am I diseased?!"

"Trypanophobia is more commonly known as needle phobia." First Aid spoke up in his calm, quiet voice. "You are not diseased, Tailgate."

Ratchet finally turned back around, tactfully hiding the needle behind his back. "I need you to hold out your arm, Tailgate."

"No!" Tailgate squeaked and recoiled.

Ratchst's optics flickered to Cyclonus, silently asking for his assistance. The large mech sighed internally and tugged Tailgate over to him so the minibot was settled in his lap. "Stay still." He told him firmly.

"Don't make me, please." Tailgate pleaded, grabbing onto the plates on the front of his roommate's chassis. "Tell him to stop! I'll be good, I'll shut up when you tell me to, I promise! Please!" Tailgate's voice proceeded to grow shriller and shriller as Ratchet approached.

When the medic reached their berth, Tailgate was practically having a fit. Tears were streaming down behind his visor, and he buried his face in Cyclonus' chestplates as the protoform under the armour on his arm was sterilised with a damp wipe. The minibot's intakes were becoming laboured as he prepared for the pain of the needle breaking through his protoform and energon lines.

"Relax, idiot." Ratchet sighed as he lined the needle up to be level with the main energon line in Tailgate's small arm. "Everyone else already got their shots."

Tailgate turned his head to face Ratchet in order to reply, but in doing so he caught sight of the needle and shrieked. "Holy Primus! No! No way! Get it away from me! You are NOT sticking that in me!"

Despite himself, Cyclonus almost laughed. "Tailgate, look at me."

The smaller mech managed to tear his gaze away from the needle to meet Cyclonus' intense red optics. Coolant tears shone behind his visor, and his hands clenched around Cyclonus' shoulders.

"It won't hurt. You've had a LOT bigger, and the needle is only going in your arm." Cyclonus pointedly ignored Ratchet's awkward cough. "How about you just look at me. Only me."

Tailgate took a breath and nodded without breaking Cyclonus' stare. "Okay." He whimpered as he felt the needle brushing his arm again. "Cyclonus, it's really big. What if it goes straight through my arm?"

The corners of Cyclonus' mouth twitched upwards. It was the closest he would come to a smile in public. "It won't. If it does, I will happily kill Ratchet. How about that?"

Ratchet snorted, but Tailgate's optics shone behind his visor. "You'd do that?"

"Only if you be brave and get your shot."

Tailgate nodded and grabbed Cyclonus' hand, squeezing it tightly. A whimper escaped him as Ratchet pressed down on the plunger and the sharp point of the needle pierced his protoform. The whimper turned to a choked sob as the repair nanites were injected into his lines, causing an unpleasant cold feeling to course through his systems.

"You're doing very well." Ratchet commended, releasing the rest of the repair nanites from the syringe.

Tailgate squeezed hard on Cyclonus' hand as the needle was slowly extracted from his arm. "Make it stop."

"It's over." Cyclonus murmured. "See?"

Mouth pressed in a line, Tailgate stubbornly shook his head. "I don't wanna look."

"Just look." Cyclonus insisted, taking hold of Tailgate's chin and pulling it down.

The minibot winced when he saw the puncture mark in his arm. "It hurts."

"Don't be ridiculous." Ratchet wiped the energon that was leaking from the small puncture wound, before turning his attention to Cyclonus. "Take Tailgate back to your hab. suite and make sure he rests. He worked himself up into quite a state."

Ratchet had half expected the surly mech to snarl and refuse, but Cyclonus nodded and glanced down at Tailgate, who had curled up in his lap sleepily. "Will he be okay?"

Seemingly unfazed by the jet's uncharacteristic concern, Ratchet nodded. "Of course. The problem with irrational phobias is that the mind blows them wildly out of proportion. He'll be fine with some rest."

Cyclonus nodded and stood up; Tailgate stirred as his position was shifted, and wrapped his legs around the purple body he was clinging to. "Where we going?"che asked sleepily.

There was no answer as Cyclonus simply carried him out of the medbay. They earned a few curious and disbelieving stares as they made their way back towards their quarters, but none of it bothered Cyclonus in the slightest.

Once they reached their hab. suite, Cyclonus set Tailgate on the minibot's berth and went to move away.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Tailgate reached for him.

"It is none of your business, but I was going to go for high grade."

"C-can you stay with me? Please?" Tailgate asked in a small voice, moving slightly to the side to make room on his berth.

After a brief hesitation, Cyclonus sat down on the side of the berth. "Why?"

Tailgate rubbed his arm, right over the puncture wound, and his visor glowed pitifully. He patted the berth beside him again.

"Very well." Cyclonus sighed and lay back beside the smaller form of his roommate. "Happy now?"

"Yeah." Tailgate snuggled into the large mech's side. "I'm happy now."

After a pause, Cyclonus spoke again. "What are you going to do next vorn?"

"Hm? What d'you mean? The booster shots are every metacycle."

Cyclonus glanced down at him, frowning. "Yes, but I asked Ratchet and he told me that because you missed so many booster shots whilst you were in stasis, you need several regularly in order to catch up."

"What?" His voice was shrill as he stared at Cyclonus in horror. "No! No, no, no, no, no-"

"Shush." Cyclonus rolled his optics. "You are overreacting."

"I'm not! Can't I just swallow the nanites, or-"

A rough, growling laugh escaped Cyclonus' vocaliser. "I don't think so."

Tailgate picked up one of Cyclonus' clawed hands and tangled their fingers together. "Will you come with me?"

"I should be paid for this." The bigger mech growled, his voice as playful as it got.

"You can be paid with my appreciation and gratitude...?"

Another bark of laughter escaped him. "Hmm.. I may need something more.. physical." He murmured against Tailgate's audio.

Tailgate giggled. "I'll write you a card."

With a roll of his optics, Cyclonus pressed his face against the square head of his roommate. "It had better be a damn good card."

"It'll be a great card. I'll put glitter on it."

A rich, booming laugh accompanied a little amused giggle, and bounced off the walls of the room. "I look forward to it."


End file.
